


Klance Fluff Week

by FeyduBois



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Culture, Ballroom Dancing, Depression, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Galaxy Garrison, Klance Fluff Week 2017, M/M, Minor Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Rain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9434858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeyduBois/pseuds/FeyduBois
Summary: Klance fluff week 2017!Day One: First ImpressionDay Two: Rainy DayDay Three: Night OutDay Four: SleepDay Five: FeelingsDay Six: TrainingDay Seven: Pranks





	1. First: First Impression

**Author's Note:**

> It's KLANCE fluff week and I'm stoked. This first one isn't really fluffy but I need to go to bed because I work at 3:30am so I promise tomorrow will be fluffier.

The first time Keith met Lance it was also his first day at the garrison. Iverson was giving them their first large group talk and trying to be as intimidating as possible. It was clear from the reactions of the cadets who had previous military experience and who was a new civilian. They were fresh meat, those who knew what they were looking for could tell by the fear and unease that radiated from them. The ones who, like Keith, grew up with military parents, or had been in similar organizations, were standing quietly, at attention, but not fearfully; fear would only bring on more attention. Of course, more than fear, cockiness would also draw attention. Iverson scanned the crowd for his first victim.

“You, cadet,” Iverson pointed a thick finger at a tall tanned boy one row ahead of Keith.

“Me?” he boy asked, “Name’s Lance.”

“Cadet, do you understand the rules?”

“Yeah yeah, best behaviour, be on time for meals and classes, expectations, no girls in our rooms, blah blah blah, etcetera, basically, don’t have any fun whatsoever.”

A couple of students couldn’t repress snickers.

“Funny guy, eh?” asked Iverson.

“I was just repeating what you said, Mr Fun Police, Sir.”

“Drop and give me twenty.”

“Twenty what? I thought these were cash-free premises.”

“Forty. Forty push-ups, cadet.”

“Oh, now?”

“Yes now.”

“Fine,” Lance dropped to the ground and began to do full push-ups, not even lowering his legs. Keith had to give him credit, he wasn’t giving Iverson any material to comment on. And his pushups were in fine form.

Keith had his attention turned partly to Lance even as he tried to keep his eyes on Iverson. It wasn’t hard with Lance almost directly in front of him, his core tightened as he performed his punishment. Also, holy shit this guy had a nice ass.

Wait, Keith cursed, where did that come from?

Of course Keith knew he liked guys, but this guy? This skinny dweeb with the annoying voice and the stupidity to insult Iverson to his face?

Okay, maybe Keith could appreciate him in a way.

After the pushups and the end of the speech they were sent to the mess for dinner. Keith, although he didn’t usually make the first move being a little bit shy, nonetheless wanted to congratulate this boy who had sassed Iverson on his first day.

He found him in the queue waiting for his food next to a pretty blonde girl who he seemed to be talking to animatedly.

“Did it hurt?” he asked.

“What?”

“When you fell from heaven. Did it hurt?”

“Oh my god,” she huffed, “Are you for real?”

“I’m as real as you are pretty.”

She shook her head and turned away from him, muttering, “Unbelievable.”

Keith grabbed a tray and shimmied up to the brown-haired boy in the line. Up close he was even more attractive, a strong but slender jaw, deceptively broad shoulders, a beautiful neck, and light freckles dusting the brown skin along his high cheekbones.

“Hey,” Keith offered a shy smile.

“Hello,” the boy turned to him, offering a hand, “I’m Lance. Cargo pilot.”

Keith shook the hand, admiring the long, strong fingers and extreme softness. Did this guy use hand cream? “Keith. Fighter pilot.”

Lance stared hard at Keith for a moment, “Oh wow, your hair.”

“My hair?” Keith brought a hand up to the back of his head, running his fingers through the back. He had never thought it was bad? Honestly, he was quite proud of being able to pull off the look he did, his hairdresser friend reassured him it was quite fabulous. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

Lance brought a hand up to cover his grin, “Ron Wood called, he wants his mullet back. I honestly didn’t know anyone wore those still.”

“This isn’t a mullet,” Keith insisted, “All have you know this is all the rage right now.”

“Hey Hunk,” Lance called to a big guy who was standing just ahead of him in line, “What year is it, 1987?”

“It’s not 1987.”

“Well, this guy clearly didn’t get the memo.”

“Lance, stop being mean,” Hunk admonished.

“Fine,” Lance huffed, turning to where he was being served a plate of mystery meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and peas. He winked at Keith, “Catch ya later, mullet.”

Keith felt his heart drop in his chest. So much for making a good first impression.


	2. Rainy Day: Petrichor Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's raining and Keith accidentally proposes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is established Klance and like they've been doing this a couple of years so maybe not canon compliant but we don't know yet.

Of course if they’d been wearing their Paladin armour this wouldn’t be nearly as big of a deal as it was.

But no, they were supposed to be undercover, so they wore plain space clothes, which weren’t very plain at all, but Coran assured them they were of the latest fashion (so about 10,000 years out of style). They weren’t that ugly to be honest, but they also weren’t terribly warm and the weather was beginning to change, heavy blue-grey clouds gathering overhead and a biting wind starting to work its way through Keith’s clothes.

Keith and Lance had finished what they needed to do, retrieving the weird looking rocks that were needed to be melted down and used as some obscure but also essential ship component. Hunk and Pidge were helping Coran with other repairs, and Allura and Shiro were doing leader things, so it was left to the two of them to get the rocks. Not that it was such a terrible chore to spend a day walking around with his boyfriend. The planet was oddly Earth like except for the oddly coloured flora, everything was hues of red and purple, a different kind of chloroplast Pidge explained excitedly, whatever that meant, but not green. 

So far they hadn’t run into any other living being. True, Zarkon had a resource outpost here, but this planet was essentially a backwater so even if they met someone they could have taken care of it and still maintained their cover.

Whatever. Shiro’s orders. Keith huffed. He was bloody freezing.

Lance walked just ahead, guiding the hovering cart of glowing rocks they had gathered at his side, and maintaining a steady stream of idle chatter, “So then I asked Allura what Coran meant by quarglemuff and she went really red in the face and refused to answer. I think it’s maybe a dirty word, but like, dirtier than quiznak?”

“Mhmm,” Keith murmured, gathering his arms into his chest in an attempt to conserve body heat.

Quite suddenly Lance was interrupted as the sound of thunder boomed in the distance. They both startled but it was a familiar sound, comfortingly like Earth thunder and probably not an explosion.

“Was that thunder?” asked Lance.

“I think so,” Keith said, “The sky sure looks like it.”

A spattering sound surrounded them. At first it was just light plip-plops on the foliage, but then it became a full scale pattering of rain. 

And then a monsoon downpour.

“Holy shit,” Lance swore, “It’s raining.”

“We should find shelter,” Keith said, “It looks dry under that big tree over there.”

“Just a minute,” Lance tilted his head up and shut his eyes, seeming to enjoy the wetness on his face, embracing it entirely with all of his being. “Rain!” he exclaimed excitedly, “I can’t believe it. I missed this so much.”

“Lance,” Keith began.

“I mean, maybe you don’t have much experience with rain, but I love it. It’s one of my favourite things. Splashing in puddles, how it makes everything green and shiny, oh and sound of it outside while I’m falling asleep,” he sighed, “I love rain.”

“Lance,” Keith tried again, “Shelter.”

“Right, right.”

Keith made his way for the tree alone, waiting for Lance there, even colder than before. His costume had consisted of something like cotton sweatpants and a knit sweater made of some sort of fur that was not nearly as warm as it looked. While before the wind had cut through the holes in it, now the rain was drenching it, making it heavy and wet against his skin. His hair clung to his face in dark, wet curls while he glared at Lance, willing him to notice and come over.

Lance’s costume was more appropriate, a long trench coat like jacket kept out the elements. He eventually wandered over to Keith, “Do you know what petrichor is?”

“No,” Keith shook his head miserably. He was beginning to shiver. “Is it Altean?”

“No, English. It’s the smell of the earth after a heavy rain following a dry spell. Have you ever smelled that?”

“I haven’t smelled your stupid petrichor Lance,” Keith snapped. He didn’t meant to.

“Yesh, no need to be so rude, what’s up with you?” Lance finally seemed to notice his state, “Oh.” 

Keith was drenched. They both were, but Keith’s clothes were stuck with cold water to his body while Lance was damp but relatively dry. “You’re so wet!”

“Tends to happen when it rains.”

“You must be cold.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re shivering.”

“I’m fine,” Keith gritted out between his clenched teeth.

“No no, take off that wet sweater and put on my jacket.”

“Lance…”

“I’m not cold at all, I run hot.”

Keith sighed, “Fine.”

Keith took off the sweater and dropped it into the cart with the rocks. Lance gently draped the jacket of his shoulders and Keith put his arms through the sleeves. It was warm from Lance’s body still and smelled faintly of him. He huddled into it. “Thank you.”

“Hey, no problem,” Lance gave him a winning grin, “When do you think it’ll let up?”

“I don’t know. If it doesn’t stop soon we can always call for a pickup.”

“That’s true,” Lance agreed, “Let’s sit down.”

They settled into the space at the base of the trunk of the tree, its bark was a deep purple and soft, smelling faintly like cedar but also liquorice, and leaned against it, close together.

“If you get sick because you gave me your jacket it’s not my fault,” Keith said.

“Me? Naw, never,” Lance said.

They sat and watched the rain continue to fall, the sound soothing and familiar.

“Keith?”

“Yeah?”

“I miss Earth.”

“Me too,” Keith said. He absently reached out and took Lance’s hand into his own. It was warm while he held it on his knee, squeezing it gently.

“I miss my books,” Keith said.

“I miss Earth food,” said Lance.

“Oh yeah,” Keith agreed, “Pizza.”

Lance’s stomach abruptly growled at the mere thought of it. He laughed, “Fuck, yes. Pizza.”

“I miss the sun. I mean, our sun. The ones here are similar but they’re all just… not quite right.”

“They are,” Lance agreed, “They’re always just a little too far away or a little too close.”

Keith’s shivering was beginning to die down.

“I miss my family,” Lance said miserably.

“Me too,” Keith agreed, bringing Lance closer to his body so he could cuddle him against his side.

“It’s not that I don’t like you guys,” Lance said, “You’re my best friends and I love you especially Keith.”

“I know,” Keith kissed Lance lightly on the cheek, not sure if the moisture there was rain or tears, “We’re not your family. I get it. Don’t worry about it”

“It’s not that…” Lance sniffled, “I just miss them.”

“I know you do,” Keith said, “I’m here for you.”

“Thanks.”

After a moment of silence Keith said, “Lance?”

“Yeah?”

He took a deep breath and then, looking Lance in the eye, asked, “How would you like to be my family?”

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

“I… shut up, it’s stupid. Never mind, I was just thinking that since we’re in space and don’t have family and with all that we’ve been through the past few years…”

“Yes Keith,” Lance laughed, “yes.”

Lance’s lips met Keith’s and he kissed passionately for several minutes.

Keith was warming up. The rain began to putter off and he sniffed the air, detecting a strange scent. “Is that?” he asked Lance.

Lance sniffed deeply, “Yep, that’s petrichor. Not exactly like Earth, but I think it varies with the minerals in the soil.”

It was beautiful, a mix of earth and spice and something else he couldn’t quite put a finger on. It was an Earth-like scent, even if he had no associations with it on Earth. Suddenly he knew why Lance was so thrilled by the rain, it was as if it had awoken everything in him, as if he was being born for the first time.

“I hope it rains on our wedding day,” Lance said.

Most people wished that it wouldn’t. Wasn’t there a line in a song about that? And a free ride when you’ve already paid? Ironic. It was ironic for Lance to say something like that, but he would. That was Lance. Keith grinned and kissed his fiancé. His fiancé.

They pulled back, Lance’s face working into a grimace, then he sneezed quite suddenly once, twice, three times.

How did it go again? In sickness and in health, ’til death do us part.

Well, that was already the case before. Only now they were officially family.


	3. Night Out: Alien Ballroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night out! Wooo, alien ballroom style.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If someone wants to draw this trash I'm so in.

Of course the paladins had attended balls, galas, parades, and formal dinners in their honour before. But the Iovcerneans were apparently extremely into balls, and, while their paladin armour generally sufficed as formal wear for these occasions, both Coran and Allura had insisted that it would simply not do here. Coran had taken measurements and the two Alteans had hit up the market on Iovcerne. Allura and Shiro had taken Pidge aside and told her that the Iovcerneans, although extremely open to same-sex couples, were still far behind in their gender role assignments so it would be best if she were to play a male role since they might not be open to a girl piloting Green Lion and Voltron was seeking an alliance which could get them much needed supplies and perhaps some upgrades to the castle’s artillery.

Pidge heaved a sigh of relief, “No problem.”

“You are not upset?” asked Allura.

“Nope,” Pidge said, “I saw the dresses the Iovercernean women were wearing at the greeting, I don’t know how they moved in all that.”

Shiro chuckled, “That’s that then.”

Allura shrugged, considering what she was going to have to wear, “It can’t be that bad… they looked so beautiful, and those were just their day dresses.”

* * *

“We need the corsets to fit into these jackets,” said Coran, “Now, I know it’s uncomfortable, but it’s a fact of fashion.”

Shiro looked from Keith, Keith looked to Coran, and they both nodded; they had weathered Galra prisons and numerous battles, how bad could a simple ball be?

Coran had already dressed the others while Shiro and Keith were finishing their training session, but now that they were done and showered he was helping them into the obscenely elaborate Iovercene garments. These consisted of tightly fit off-white pants which hugged every inch of the ass to display everything there, but were covered in the front by the beautiful jacket which swept downwards in wing-shapes to either side into a lovely stiff seat which pulled away from the ass to show the wares beneath, but then joined together into a sort of tail, trailing downwards. It honestly looked like Earth Romantic or Regency men’s fashion taken to an extreme, highlighting the curves of a man’s body in a way which would be vulgar if the women’s fashion was not just as much so. The jacket held ridiculously tight at the waist, a corset-like belt tightening at a mens waist level, but then folded outwards at the top, like a flower, highlighting broad shoulders, with delicately tapered shoulder pads, like petals, flowing over the tops of the arms. The elbows of the jacket were close but not uncomfortable, to allow for movement while dancing, but the cuffs were an elaborate display of buttons and embroidery, much like the lapels spreading down the chest in upside down triangles, covered in thick embroidery and bejewelled into rich designs. Gloves topped off the affair, but were optional so that they could be removed while dancing to be able to touch a partner’s hand.

“Wow,” Shiro exclaimed as Coran helped him into the jacket, “This is quite fancy.”

Coran nodded, “The Ioverceneans have always been fond of elaborate fashion.”

Shiro, rather than Coran, helped Keith into the corset, pulling the ties on the back tight so that both his lower and upper body were cinched in as tightly as they could be. Keith gasped as Shiro tugged him in tighter, “They want us to dance in this?”

“I’m afraid so,” Coran said, “I know it’s a lot, but they have been very willing so far so making a formal appearance is necessary. Trust me, even 10,000 years ago, no one has ever actually enjoyed getting dressed for an Iovercene ball.”

Fortunately the hair was not so much messed with as it was in Earth fashions of that era, and a ponytail held with some pretty ribbon was the norm, but loose, short, hair was also acceptable. No wigs were required, thank the gods, although if it were an outdoor affair they would have needed hats.

* * *

Once they were dressed Shiro, Coran, and Keith joined the other paladins at entrance staircase to the ballroom. Their view was blocked by bodies but once they were allowed onto the top of the staircase, more like a stage really, they were blinded by glittering lights and the crowd. Only the Iovercene royal King and Queen, dressed in obscenely complicated costume, and the others of their team were visible since they were in the same light. 

Pidge and Hunk paid mind to the King and Queen, but Shiro was instantly enraptured by Allura in a stunning blue and purple Iovercene gown. It hugged her waist in a corseted V-shape, trailing away into a mountain of skirts, and the top draped over her shoulders so elegantly he could barely tear his eyes away to greet the King and Queen properly. They knew Allura was a princess, of course, but even Keith saw how Shiro watched her, poised and powerful, and he, although straight as a circle, could appreciate the effort she had gone through to look this way.

But Keith was also distracted by someone else: Lance.

Lance had clearly gone through as much as he and Shiro had, and then some, to look the way he did, every inch as respectable, as polished, as beautiful, as the Iovercene king. He wore it well. Lance was a fucking prince.

Lance wore the tight white pants, an off-blue, hugging his legs as tightly as leggings, with stirrups descending into shiny dark blue, nearly black, shoes with silver buckles whose heels lifted his shins so that his calves were displayed beautifully under the sheer white fabric. The pants were at the top covered by the silver-blue jacket, a stunning display of craftsmanship, with a shinning front that swept back, curving so that the inside, a rich blue velveteen, showed along the lapels and the bottom of the jacket, the skirt, gusseted so that it stood stiffly behind him in a tail, stopped about 8 inches behind Lance’s ass, and then trailed down into fabric ribbons like a literal tail. 

Keith’s mouth went dry.

Lance’s wrists were accentuated with a similar pattern as the inside of the jacket, something like a floral or fleur de lis, but smaller and more delicate. The shoulder pads went outwards and then curled up just behind his shoulders, blue and glistening wings; every inch of everything was either blue or silver.

Keith forgot his words. Lance was fucking gorgeous. Was he wearing makeup? Keith could swear his eyes were bluer than he’d ever seen them and that his skin was glowing, rich and warm, beneath the lights, sparkling, even. Lance offered him a glistening grin.

Suddenly Keith’s pants were tighter than they were before, if that was even possible.

The King and Queen introduced them as the paladins of Voltron and they descended the staircase as they were required, but it was all a blur to him as Shiro grasped Allura by the arm, Keith grasped Lance, hardly aware of his feet on the steps, and Hunk and Pidge followed.

They reached the dance floor and faced each other. From the music and the announcements Keith knew that they were required to dance. With each other. Shiro led Allura, Hunk led Pidge, and Lance was leading Keith. Leading him.

That was surely preferable to Keith having to lead, but still, he was unsure of his steps as Lance guided him through it. Fortunately it was a slow song, not romantic but formal, a sort of warm-up, during which Lance watched the others and whispered.

“Come forward… good.”

And “Now put your hand on my waist.”

“Okay, I’m going to spin you now…” and Keith was spun, his brain swimming as he was thrown through the glittering room, and then held tightly in Lance’s arms, “I’ve got you.”

Keith believed him. Lance had him held, securely, in his arms as they waltzed through the steps. How had Lance learned how to do this? Was Coran feeding him the moves through some sort of secret com-link? There was no way Lance knew this.

At last, when Keith was sure he was about to faint, from a combination of spins and Lance, the dance ended. They bowed to each other. Allura attempted a curtsey and barely kept from falling over with her fucking hair. Was there a birdcage in that?

“Whew,” Lance sighed, “I know dancing isn’t your thing but you followed alright there.”

“Followed?” asked Keith.

“Well, you sure as hell weren’t leading.”

Keith was starting to get mad, but he knew he couldn’t dance, “When did you learn how to dance alien ballroom style?”

“Honestly,” Lance said, “This is almost exactly like Earth ballroom. I mean, I knew Hunk had lessons, and Shiro probably learned at some point, so we were all kinda doing it Earth style, but I think the Ioverceneans appreciated it so that’s cool?”

From the general applause and cheers Keith supposed so. But damn, that was way harder than he had ever thought. And way more physical. And way… hotter?

When did Lance get so damn sexy?

“Hey, wanna try some actual Alien Ballroom?” Lance asked, with a wink, as the next song started up.

Well, if Shiro and Allura were already starting the next dance together, surely it wouldn’t look too odd if the other paladins did another dance together?

Keith couldn’t have said no if he wanted to.


	4. Sleep: Come to Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleep: The Galra have been on their tail for so long and Lance is just so tired but he can't sleep without his Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ironically I’m writing this instead of sleeping.
> 
> Established early Klance
> 
> SEASON 2 SPOILERS

Lance didn’t function well on insufficient sleep. Some people did fine, case in point Shiro, Coran, and Keith, but Lance? No way, he needed a full eight hours minimum to feel rested, more was even better. The last eleven quintants he’d been running on less than four hours a quintant, or vargas (more or less, vargas were slightly longer than hours). They were being continually being woken up because Zarkon was always on their tail. They would get away for a little while, but not long after the alarms would go off, they would all have to get into their armour and file into the command room where they would once again need to escape into deeper space.

They had just managed to evade yet another Galra fleet and were considering returning to bed.

“Are we done with this crap?” asked Pidge, flopped out in her chair.

“I think you can all go to bed,” Shiro said, “I’ll stay up a little bit longer and make sure we aren’t being trailed.”

“You’ll be alright then?” asked Allura.

“I’ll be fine princess,” Shiro reassured her with a weary smile.

They exchanged tired little goodnights and filtered out into their rooms. It wasn’t every night that Lance showed up in Keith’s room but every once in awhile he would. If he wasn’t there for sex it was because of a nightmare, or perhaps he was cold and wanted to cuddle. 

Tonight, when Keith emerged from a shower and entered his room, there was a lump already in his bed; Lance was already snuggled under the covers, cozied right in.

“Come to bed,” Lance murmured.

“I wasn’t going to go to bed right away,” Keith tossed his towel into a laundry basket, “Not tired.”

“How can you not be tired?” Lance moaned. He was exhausted and getting cranky from it.

Keith shrugged, “I’m just not, still kind of wound up after the fight. I was going to go clean up Red, tidy up the hanger some.”

“Noooo,” Lance whined, an arm shooting out to grasp Keith’s elbow and pull him towards the bed, “Sleep with me.”

“Sleep with me?” Keith asked, suggestively, raising an eye brow.

“Not like that,” Lance tugged him closer to the bed, “I need my Keith to cuddle so I can sleep.”

“You slept fine without me the last couple quintants.”

“No I didn’t,” Lance pouted, “I hardly slept at all, it was so bad. I’m super exhausted. I don’t know how you’re still standing.”

“I might be a bit tired,” Keith finally admitted, “But I’m also too worked up to sleep. I think I just hit my second wind?”

“More like your fourth,” Lance groaned, “Come to bed Keith.” It was time for the secret weapon. Lance turned to Keith and gave him the Puppy Eyes. They were big, blue, and shiny, and the dark circles beneath them and dull skin only added to the pathetic effect.

“Why do you do this to me?” Keith asked, “Fine. I probably won’t sleep, but I’ll stay until you fall asleep, okay?”

Lance brightened immediately and pulled Keith into the bed. Keith was already wearing just his boxer shorts and a t-shirt after his shower, his hair still damp as Lance nuzzled his face into it.

“I’ll be big spoon tonight, m’kay?” Lance said, it wasn’t really a question Keith could argue however, as Lance was already wrapped around him like a warm, overly friendly octopus.

Lance could feel Keith’s body giving in, softening in his arms and his breathing slowing. Lance was asleep before Keith could say “sweet dreams.”

—

Keith realized that, now that Lance was asleep, there was no way he was getting out to do the things he had planned. Lance’s hold on him was like a vice, a warm, sweet-smelling, vice whose arm he could rest his head on like a pillow. The breath at his ear was slow and even and absolutely peaceful.

Honestly, Keith hadn’t meant to fall sleep, he didn’t think he’d be able to, but within minutes he was lulled by his boyfriend’s breathing and warm arms into the most restful sleep he could remember.


	5. Feelings: F.I.N.E.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been fifteen years since they started fighting Zarkon, three since they defeated him and returned to Earth, and just over 16 months since Lance's first break down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Klance Fluff Week Day 5: Feelings  
> Okay, but like, how to do this prompt without angst? I gave up, there’s both angst and fluff, so it’s maybe more h/c? Deal with it.  
> Established Klance, about 15 years after series.  
>  **Very minor season 2 spoilers, but if you haven’t seen it you probably won’t even notice.  
> **  
>  depressed!Lance, head-canoning Keith as lactose-intolerant  
>  **Trigger warning for depression and mentioned suicide attempts.**

Fifteen years. That isn’t that long in a person’s lifetime on the large scale of things, but for the members of Voltron it felt like a lifetime ago since they started fighting Zarkon. It had taken only twelve years, and then they had all returned to Earth. The first two years had gone by in a blur of parades and diplomatic tours and weddings, but now that it had all settled down, Lance and Keith were trying to settling down together as a couple. Keith was managing it fine, surprisingly, but Lance wasn’t handling it quite as well.

Keith was an instructor back at Galaxy Garrison, preparing young cadets for their explorations into space. At first Lance had been working with international diplomacy agencies, since he was bar far one of the best recognized paladins of the team among visiting aliens (he’d probably attempted to Captain Kirk at least half of them), but lately he’d let the others do more of those appearances, and the aliens visiting Earth were less concerned with meeting the paladins of Voltron and more concerned with meeting the leaders of Earth.

That was alright by him. It was alright by Keith too. Lance was in no shape to deal with people day-in and day-out. He’d had a couple of melt-downs, and a scary spell where he wasn’t eating or sleeping and ended up fainting during a celebratory anniversary gala, and overall he was sick. Lance was sick not in body, but in mind. It could be fatal, Keith knew, Lance had tried a couple of times, but hadn't gotten far.

This was something they didn’t know how to fight, they hadn’t had time to deal with this sort of thing in space, so it built up, trauma layered upon trauma, but now it followed him everywhere. There was a black dog haunting the shadows wherever he went. It was so strange for someone as upbeat as Lance to have succumbed to this, but perhaps it was just because it was his fake-it-until-you-make-it attitude that had caused his psyche to crumble. They had all been through terrible things that no young person should have had to endure, but while Keith, Pidge and Hunk had weathered the storms, Lance had let the rain in until he was a sinking ship.

They were taken care of. They were heroes and so they were taken well care of financially, Keith and Lance had come together during their time as Voltron and they had remained so on Earth, purchasing a comfortable house for themselves with a large yard. Lance’s family had loved Keith right off the bat, and, although Keith’s dad was a little more reluctant to accept Keith’s sexuality, they had worked it out and he had come to really like Lance. In fact, Keith swore that his dad liked Lance better than he liked him. 

Nowadays though? Nowadays all Lance felt like was a burden.

“I’m just getting groceries,” Keith said, pulling up their car in front of Lance’s counsellor’s office, “Are you sure you don’t want me to come in with you?”

“I’m fine,” Lance said stiffly.

“If you don’t like this one we can find you another.”

“No, it’s okay,” Lance sighed. This was his third counsellor this year. No one on Earth seemed equipped to deal with him, but perhaps that was because no one else on Earth had ever spent twelve years, twelve very formative years, in space fighting a rebellion against an evil emperor. “Just come get me when you’re done?”

“Of course,” Keith said, “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Lance didn’t believe him. Lance knew he was just doing it out of obligation, because Keith had married him before, when he was like he used to be. No one wanted to deal with him now, driving him to and from appointments, harassing him to take his meds, making sure he didn’t self-medicate, asking him how he was feeling, and listening to his senseless rambling while his eyes streamed. The counsellor was paid to do that. Of course, Ella was good about acting like she didn’t. Sometimes Lance could pretend that she actually cared.

Ella was only perhaps a decade older than Lance, in her mid-forties, but she carried herself with such dignity that she seemed older, a wealth of wisdom in her body. Her office was filled with bits of art work and quotations she liked, a zen writing board, yarn projects that she was working on, and a mess of houseplants across her desk and one long ivy-like vine that wrapped all the way around the room, awkwardly pinned up so that it enveloped the otherwise institutional space. Lance flopped onto the couch, immediately reaching for the soft crochet blanket on the top so that he could bring it between his fingers and ground him into the space.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Fucked up, insecure, neurotic, and emotional?” she asked.

Lance gave her a bitter grin, “Yup.”

“Let’s get started then. We’ll do some breathing, get you settled, and then we’ll try to figure out how you’re really feeling.”

___

‘Grumpy’ the large cardboard square read with the appropriate yellow emoji. ‘Happy’, ‘Hip’, ‘Hurried’. Lance flipped through the cards, so many emotions streaming through his mind that he couldn’t pick just one, he didn’t know, he couldn’t choose. Eventually he settled on ‘Overwhelmed’ because it was the closest. He held it to show Ella.

“What’s overwhelming you?” she asked gently.

“I-I don’t know. Just… just… all of it.”

“That’s okay, just let yourself be overwhelmed then.”

___

Lance was overwhelmed, and then Ella walked him through some exercises, forced him back into his body, grounding him, but not going as deeply as she usually did, as if she sensed that today he was especially bad. Lance was especially bad today.

Keith was already waiting outside her office and while Lance booked his next time with the receptionist Ella took Keith aside. She handed him something, a book?

The ride home was quietly domestic. What was for dinner tonight, tomorrow’s agenda, when were Pidge and Hunk coming over to visit again… this weekend?

Lance couldn’t take it, “What did Ella give you?”

“Oh, it’s a mood book. Y’know, like a desk calendar, but with emojis. She wants you to pick one every morning when you wake up and every night before you go to bed and write it down.”

“This is useless,” Lance spat out.

“It’s easy though, you just have to pick a mood.”

“I mean all this counselling crap is pointless, it’s just covering up the problem, I’m barely coasting along, I’m a burden.” Lance’s words began to pour out, along with his tears, “I’m a stupid, useless waste of time, of space. I’m a waste of fucking air and oh God, I’ve fucked up everything and everyone I’ve ever laid my hands on. I’m so sorry I put you through all of this Keith, you deserve so, so much better. You should just let me go, leave me here. Pull over now and put me on the side of the road, in the ditch with the rest of the garbage!”

“I want nothing more than to pull over,” Keith said, “And to wrap you up in my arms and hold you forever.”

“You don’t mean that,” Lance screeched, “You’re just saying that because you feel like that’s what you’re supposed to say. You don’t need to.”

“I mean every word,” Keith gritted out, catching Lance’s eye in the rearview mirror. “I can’t pull over just yet, we’re on the freeway.”

Keith took the first available exit and, in a move that would make the stunt drivers of The Fast and the Furious jealous, he pulled off to the side of the road in a spot too short for most vehicles without his quick manoeuvring skills. 

Lance burst out of the car onto his hands and knees and began to dry heave from stress. This was not unusual for him; stress went straight to his stomach.

Eventually Lance finished and Keith, picking up the metal water bottle from the cupholder, exited the driver’s side and joined him at the side of the road. He opened the bottle and offered it to Lance who took a large sip, swished it, and then spat it out. Then he took a real drink of water and shut the bottle before returning it to Keith. All this time he wouldn’t make eye contact, staring at some unspecified place just past the ditch. It was a pile of dead weeds trimmed with old, dirty, snow. They hadn't had any fresh snow in weeks and that crap at the side of the road, although not melted, was ice hard and blackened with car exhaust and grime. There was nothing pure about that snow, just as there was nothing pure about Lance.

“I really do mean it,” Keith said, coming up behind Lance.

Keith didn’t touch him. Lance knew he would react with anger, and that Keith knew this so he held back, but he still wanted to be touched. Badly.

Lance shook with uncontrolled emotion.

“Listen,” Keith sighed, crouching down, “I’m not going to lie. This has been hard for me. It’s just one problem after another and I start to wonder how long we’ll be doing this for.” He paused, “But I don’t mind doing it because I love you and I made a promise to be there for you.”

Lance sniffed, “Yeah, back before I fell apart. I’m a wreck now and you can’t want me still.”

“I do,” Keith gently set a hand on his shoulder, tense, as if he expected to be refused, “You’re still you, you’re still the Lance I fell in love with.”

Lance knew he wasn’t though, not anymore.

“How are you feeling?” Keith asked.

“Worthless.”

“You have worth to me,” said Keith.

“I don’t know what you see in me,” Lance replied, bitterly, pausing to look Keith in the face.

“Oh Lance,” Keith sighed, and then kissed him gently, fully, on the mouth. When he drew back he said, “I love you.”

“Okay,” said Lance, not quite willing to accept the love but willing to accept that Keith was stupid enough to love him.

“Can we go home now so I can make you some dinner?” Keith suggested, “I got the ingredients for that creamy shrimp pasta Hunk served us.”

“Can you eat that?” Lance asked, “Cause I’m not sleeping next to you if you get the same thing that happened after Hunk’s dinner party again. That was toxic.”

Keith blushed, and then laughed, “I think I’ve worked out a dairy-free version that’ll hopefully be just as good.”

“Mm, okay,” Lance said, letting Keith lift him from his knees to standing up. He was momentarily dizzy, not that he said anything, but Keith seemed to notice, or perhaps he just wanted to hug him, and took Lance into his arms, resting his head on his shoulder.

Keith whispered into his ear, “I love you, I don’t care if you believe it or not, I know it’s true, so don’t you ever forget.”

“I won’t,” Lance said, “You won’t let me.”


End file.
